


Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing

by Waistcoat35



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Tree, Fluff, Gen, He's cute, Javert gets emotional, Kissing, M/M, Modern AU, Ornaments, Stars, Tinsel, Valjean agrees with me on that point, it's cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2019-02-15 17:03:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13035564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waistcoat35/pseuds/Waistcoat35
Summary: Javert and Valjean decorate the Christmas tree. Cosette tries to help - sort of - and Javert receives a very special gift. Two, in fact.





	Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing

**Author's Note:**

> So I was at my local writers' club today, and the prompt I was given was Tinsel. What Cosette does is basically what I did when I was, like, 6. The Valvert wasn't originally meant to be so strong, but okay. Also, the title ws picked 1) for lack of a better idea and 2) because I was listening to Anthem Lights' hymn mashup of it while writing this.

“It’s horrible.”

Jean took a step back. He held his hands in front of him, as though picturing a snapshot.

“No, it’s not. I think we’ve done a rather decent job, really. Is that one Santa on a donkey?”

Javert bent closer, squinting at the clumsily moulded ornament. “I believe it’s a unicorn.”

“Ah.”

“Yes. _Ah_.”

Valjean gave a light chuckle, averting his eyes as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Perhaps we should’ve rethought allowing Cosette to make the ornaments.” Then he shrugged. “It just made her so happy at the time – and there _was_ a special offer on at the pottery workshop.” Suddenly he pulled out a small pointy shape wrapped in tissue paper, placing it in Javert’s palm as he gave the inspector’s hand a gentle squeeze.

Javert tilted his head like a confused puppy. It made Jean want to wrap him in his arms and lift him in the air; the man was ridiculously cute, although he would deny it to his dying day. He hesitantly unwrapped the paper, as though unsure it was even for him, eyes widening when he found another ceramic ornament, slightly smaller than the rest with much more clear-cut edges. It was varnished with speckled silver paint – a perfect star.

“What is this?” His voice was small and hushed, perhaps in awe. Jean smiled, his hand still a warm and soothing weight on Javert’s wrist.

“Since we were there, I thought I’d make an ornament myself. Go on, look down.” Javert looked back to the item in his hand, and all of a sudden his vision was blurring slightly with moisture. There were light engravings on the star, crisscrossing its smooth surface.

_To Javert, love from Jean._

Almost in a trance, Javert gently traced the letters with his index finger. Jean gave him one of those smiles that was meant only for him. It was even different to the grins he gave Cosette, something rare and giving and warm and completely different from how he looked at anybody else. Ever. Javert couldn’t quite tell what was choking him up, the ornament or the smile and touch of the hand that came with it.

Before he really knew what he was doing, his face was buried in Jean’s neck and their arms were intertwined. His nose was pressed to the taller man’s collar, inhaling slightly. The other man smelled of tea and pine and gingerbread and a hint of old books. In all honesty, he’d be happy to stay like this for as long as Jean would tolerate it.

He felt Jean smile against his shoulder, the calloused hand on the small of Javert’s back stroking softly. Their _thanks_ and _you’re welcome_ s were unspoken and unneeded.

Then the spell wore off, as small slippered feet padded into the room. They slowly pulled away, turning to face Cosette. Javert was, surprisingly, the first to react. He snorted, choking down an incredulous laugh. Jean just stood there, mouth slightly agape as though he were in shock. However, mirth danced in his eyes.

Cosette had several large strings of tinsel draped over her shoulders, and was twirling around and waving the ends as though she were a Hollywood star in a feather boa.

“How do I look, Papa? Father, why does Papa look all red and funny?” Javert turned and indeed, Jean had gone almost tomato-red with the effort of trying not to laugh. His shoulders were quivering slightly, and every so often a squeak came from his general direction. Javert sighed, shaking his head with a fond smile, and patted Jean on the shoulder.

“Don’t worry yourself, Cosette. Papa’s just having one of his little moments, you know what he’s like.” Moments later an _oof_ was heard as Javert was promptly elbowed in the ribs by “papa”.

Cosette shrugged and gave a giggle. Then, picking two strings of tinsel from the arm of the couch, she beckoned for them both to bend down. They did so, albeit warily, wondering what she had in store for them – but she merely draped a string over each of their shoulders before swishing away again, leaving a trail of glittery plastic strands in her wake.

The two men rose again, and Javert remembered the precious object still clutched in his hand. He smoothed a thumb over it again, the shine of the paint reflected in his eyes. He looked up at his partner, lips parted to give some sort of thanks – unnecessary though it was – when he saw Jean give him a wolfish grin.

“J-Jean? What are-“  Before he knew what was happening, Jean had grabbed the ends of the tinsel wrapped around Javert’s shoulders, tugging it so that Javert stumbled forward.

Their lips met, and whether it was a convenience or a deliberate act neither one could be sure. When they broke apart their eyes reflected the other pairs’ sparkle, and a foolish grin had played onto Javert’s lips. In his haze of joy, all he could seem to say was:

“Really, though, we ought to sort the tree out. I’m pretty sure that one’s supposed to be shaped like a loaf of _bread_.”


End file.
